Destinies Diverge
by fretthesandwing
Summary: Darkstalker has fallen. Peace has spread across Pyrrhia once more. Bit this peace is fragile, riven, ready to break. After Civil conflicts in the Ice Kingdom, the royal family is forced away, leaving the lower circles in charge. Attacks begin to dot the kingdoms. Dragons disappear. Fear spreads. And a little dragonet is involved in it all. He just doesn't know it yet.
1. Prologue

_**Prologue: 6 months ago…**_

 **The council meeting** was supposed to be quick and simple for the IceWings; assemble, decide, leave.

It was _not_ meant to take an entire day.

We were not of high rank, but the 'disgraces' as the higher ranks called us. We had finally met, to make a decision we knew could change IceWing history. The meeting was held on one of the island outposts inside a large congressional room. The rows were high far from the middle, allowing all to see me, Orokin, in the very center. The IceWings filed in, filling the rows, and the house itself. Not only were the rows tight, but a similar pressure was in the air.

"My acquaintances," I began, diplomatically, "We are gathered here today to discuss matters of our own livelihoods." I paced.

"The transgressions of our queens- Glacier and Snowfall- have grown too large."

One of my council men stood quickly. "What have they done!? They keep us safe!"

I slightly sneered. "Do they? They don't see us as equals. We're the only tribe where one lie can ruin your whole life." Some of the members murmured in agreement.

"Look at the IceWing plague. The queens received the earrings from Typhoon, yet it took days, _weeks_ for the earrings to be delivered by the queens guards. We lost many, all that could've been saved. The higher circles don't care." I paused, thinking, then spoke. "The circles are corrupt. They were founded on skill; the most skilled rose to the top. Those without… they suffered."

One dragon caught his idea. "But now it's only about who you know, not how well you do."

"Exactly," I agreed. I listed off all of the queens' transgressions- negligence, unneeded wars, corruption- then stopped to face the council.

"I propose something radical, but, in the sake of our livelihoods and place as dragons, I feel it must be done." I paused, knowing the words I was about to utter might as well be a dragonflame Cactus, and I the Fire-breather detonating it.

"I propose a rebellion." A few gasps rang out in the crowd. Soft, stifled murmurs of discussion started. I raised a talon, and silence fell again.

"I know this is daunting, but there is no rule against it. We have been reserved the right to defend our institution. And thus, if anarchy is needed, anarchy shall rise."

A sleek, off-white female stood.

"W-we shouldn't!" She proclaimed, rather defiantly. "We don't stand a chance! They have better weapons!"

"Yet we have numbers," I argued. "Just like the circles on your necklaces, the higher you go, the smaller the circle gets. There's three times as many dragons here than the higher circles."

The dragon's mate rose. "They do have one advantage: experience."

"That they may," I replied. I gestured to all of them. "This is your decision, not mine. Deliberate, then return for voting."

The council soon began to commune, the civil group breaking down into aggressive, yet respectful arguments.

I merely sat, watching the comotion unfold.

We regrouped, and voted. Rebellion won out.

A look of fear struck some. Pride and boldness others. I smiled.

"When shall we rebel?" My right hand Dragon, Aleutian, asked.

I looked up and out through the window, at the now high moons, the crescent, gibbous, and full moons radiating.

"One month, When the moons are new, we strike in darkness. Consider yourselves dismissed."

They left in a hurry, looking like soldiers going off to war. I sat alone, in thought.

 _This isn't for the power, the fame, nor the wealth,_ I thought. _It's for my people. My circle._

 _Dragons just like me, with my struggles and woes._

I sighed. _No more._

 **The night was dark.** Darker than pitch. I couldn't see my own talon. The golden tattoo on my wings shined almost defiantly under the moon.

 _Perfect. Just as planned._

The council men and I had gathered weapons, and traveled the past two days, hiding on the back side of the great ice cliff. We camped on a close by outpost, long abandoned. The IceWings rarely checked the outposts anyways.

Night had fallen, however, like a black bridal gown over one's eyes. After our eyes adjusted, it was only possible to see a very small distance: from here to the next dragon beside me.

We silently rose together, like a flock of birds, landing on the Ice Cliff. The palace and surrounding city was around it, with little pockets of light front the moon globes.

"Archers, load up!" I whispered aggressively. The message passed down swiftly. Each archer had an assistant with two pieces of flint. The archers notched the arrows, and they're assistants lit them ablaze.

The arrows glowed dimly in the night, making the whole cliff glow a soft, sunset orange.

"Fire!" Aleutian cried.

Hundreds of arrows flew, all fiery at their tips. They landed, and began to burn the buildings in the town as the arrows shafts ignited. I began to see the royal IceWings' guards come out,, along with panicked, frenzied civilians.

The battle had begun.

The Sword Dragons charged, meeting the royals quickly. They clashed forcefully, ruthlessly with each other. The royals were unorganized, rushed. They hadn't prepared. My dragons cut most of them down, with few losses.

"Orokin!" A sneering voice cried. I looked up to see Queen Snowfall, escorted by a section of guards.

One of my archers immediately took aim. "Stand down," I told him.

"What are you doing?!" She asked me.

"Liberating my circle from you, and all the things you've done!" I spat.

"You can't survive without us," she said, a little more soft.

"The royal circle hasn't treated us right in years. I'd rather take my chances alone than live under hypocrites like you." I pointed my set of swords at her challengingly.

"Now I recommend you run, before my archers get the order to fire at will."

She growled in dismay. "Injustice never goes unpunished Orokin. Someone will stand in your way."

She took off, as did the civilians, escaping, leaving me and her burning settlement behind.


	2. Chapter 1

_**Chapter One: Fracture**_

Vivace lived about half of the way outside from the center of Sanctuary. Just like his location, he wasn't high or low class. Right in the middle of them. His house wasn't beautiful, or decadent, but it sufficed.

These days were burned into his mind, like an engraving on a tombstone. The awesomeness, and horrors of them.

"Vivace!" His mother, Bravura, called to him. Vivace sighed. He was looking out at Sanctuary under the moonlight. His top half was pure Night, jet black scales and chiseled horns. His lower half was goldenrod yellow, nearly golden, snaking down to his tail.

His midsection, however, was strange. The colors of both halfs intermingled, creating a soft gradient. In the moonlight, He looked like black gold.

He jumped at Bravura's voice.

 _She must have some news!_

The slim, wiry hybrid dashed out of him room, practically skidding to a stop. "Yes?"

"Someone's hyper," his mother remarked, smiling. Bravura was average in height, roughly double her son's. She had flecks of brown along her gold body, a Treble clef earring glimmering in her left ear. She ran a talon through Vivace's head softly, and with her other, picked up the envelope that was on the countertop in front of her.

"Well...It seems our Queen has found a king!" She said, bristling with excitement. "Not only that, but she asked me to compose for her!"

Vivace smirked. "Our Queen deserves only the best, doesn't she?" Bravura nodded. She was a good composer, and had gained quite a reputation.

"I hope I'll get enough from this," she said. "We still have things to pay off."

Bravura never stated it, but Vivace guessed that she had some debt. Some things they owned were expensive, mainly their instruments.

 _Who did she borrow from?_ Vivace thought.

"Don't worry Vivace," His mother said. "We'll find a way, as we have for years before."

Vivace nodded,understanding. "Anything else?"

Bravura looked into the letter. "Hmm...yes. And it involves you."

The letters contents stated that a contest was to be held. After Bravura had composed the pieces (which had only taken a week,) Thorn allowed any minor musicians to learn the music for a chance to play at the wedding. Everyone had only two weeks.

Vivace was mildly discouraged. They were only taking one trumpet. Vivace knew he was a good player; he'd been doing so since he was strong enough to hold it. But knowing there was a unknown chance scared him.

He asked his mother for help. She declined.

"Why?" He asked, almost whining, sitting on his mother's bed.

"Because," she replied, "all the other dragons in the runnin' for this won't have my help, nor should you." She bent down to his level. "I want you to win by skill, not by an unfair advantage." She stood back up to went to her desk to organize herself for the event.

"Wouldn't matter if I helped you anyways. I've taught you everything you need. Just practice, play your heart out, and you'll do fine."

Over the two weeks, Vivace practiced as the audition came. By the time it arrived, the music was muscle memory. All he had to do was call it and he could do it.

Two Nights before the wedding, Vivace dressed himself. He wore two earrings, an eighth note in his left and a sixteenth in his right. He also had an orange vest on. He picked up his instruments' case and the music his mother had written.

Bravura peeked into his room. She hadn't dressed up. _She doesn't have to,_ Vivace thought. _It's my audition. I have to make a good impression._

"Ready?" She asked him. He nodded and headed outside. The sand sparkled like snow under the moons light. As they ascended, they could see the decorations sprinkled across Sanctuary. In the center of the city was Thorn's palace, dappled in white lace and fiery orange velvet. The city around the palace had bouquets of roses and artworks of the King and Queen around every corner.

There was an air of happiness and pride in the Kingdom. Even the dragons of foreign tribes were happy for the royal family.

Vivace and Bravura arrived and entered Thorn's palace. He headed past the regaly decorated plaza to a large, auditorium like room upstairs.

"Good luck!" Bravura said, touching his cheek."Leave it all in that room! I'll leave the door unlocked for you." As he entered the room he was smacked by a wall of sound, and waved him goodbye, heading home.

A cacophonous mix of instruments flooded into his ears as he walked on the velvety carpet undertalon. There were countless dragons inside, all with instruments of different timbre. He found a secluded area, and practiced again, only running through everything three times, feeling a pressure on his chest. Before going to his audition, he headed to a bathroom, and locked the door. He looked up at the mirror into his own eyes, and recited something Bravura had taught him to calm his nerves and his mind.

 _I'm the only trumpet here. Only one thing matters. Not the other sounds or sights. Not yesterday or tomorrow. Just the sound my horn makes, and the story I tell._

 _And my story will be special. Even in failure I will know I played my hardest tonight, with know regrets._

He splashed his face with water from a dish, then dried his face. He took a deep breath, then blew out forcefully. He felt more confident.

He headed back outside, and towards his audition room. The room was small, square, and padded to prevent echoes and overtones. The adjudicator was hidden by a large curtain with a small slot that split the room.

"Your ticket?" The judge said. They sounded female. Vivace handed her the ticket through the slot. He heard frantic writing from behind the curtain.

"Alright...Whenever you're ready you may start."

Vivace's mind seemed to phase out. He only saw himself in that room. He began to play the pieces, remembering everything he practiced in his week. He barely heard his own sound. He did falter here and there, but he didn't let them perturb his focus.

Before he knew it, it was over. He sighed deeply but quietly, feeling the pressure ebb away.

The adjudicator told him the pros and cons of his performance, but, he didn't hear them. A new angst.

 _Did I make it?_

He thanked the adjudicator. He told him he'd hear his results in a day.

Vivace excited from the palace, starting to feel content, and a little happy.

 _No regrets Vivace. It's over now. You can't control how you did now._

The streets of Sanctuary were dark now, ominous and almost creepy. Everyone had turned in. It was quiet.

Vivace saw his house. The lights were off, but it was oddly quiet. Bravura wasn't known to be asleep at this time. Vivace shivered. It didn't feel right.

He reached for the cold, brass doorknob. He twisted and pushed.

Then did so again, and again.

 _Why is the door locked? She said it'd be open._

He ran around to the back of his house through the alley on its left side. He looked up and saw his bedroom window open. He silently thanked his past self.

He flew up, landing in his room. He walked directly towards his own door. It too was locked.

Before Vivace could unlock it, the shutters on his windows slammed shut, leaving him in darkness. He could only see partially because of his night genes. He spun around.

Face to face with a bloodied and masked IceWing.


	3. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Two: Break and Fall**_

"So this is the Dragon?" The IceWing said, pacing around Vivace. Vivace made sure to keep his back away from the IceWing, fighting his fear and want to freeze.

The IceWing stared at Vivace. All he could see were his cold, frostbite white eyes. Vivace caught a glint of silver in the IceWings waist. He couldn't see exactly what it was.

The IceWing spoke dully. "Are you all? I was expecting something more...special than you."

Vivace tried to reply. "M-me?" _Special?_

"Someone finds you useful...heh...just not useful enough." The IceWing pulled a sharp, blood covered knife off of a belt on his waist. It was serrated on both sides. He pressed it on Vivace's chest. He let out a loud groan of pain. The IceWing slapped his talon over his mouth.

"I never understood how you hybrids come to fruition," the IceWing said, applying more pressure on the knife, twisting it slowly, gruellingly. Vivace saw a sick smile from the IceWing. Vivace tried to breathe fire, but the talon over his mouth stopped him from getting a deep breath in.

"How dare your tribes add impurity to their blood, as I add your kin's blood to you."

Vivace felt tears in his eyes. Not just from the pain, but from his revelation. He knew why the door was locked now.

 _How...how could he…_

He felt weak, like his spirit, no, _soul_ had been reaped, stolen. His own blood intermingled with his mothers', dripping into his talons. Vivace managed to tear the IceWings' talon off his mouth.

"You monster! HEL-" His cry was cut off by a stabbing pain in his chest. A red slash zigzag across his chest. The IceWing dropped him. He crawled away, like dying animal. He took in a wheezing breath, and cried out again for help.

 _Please...help me…Somebody..._

"You'll die," the IceWing said, "Just as she did!"

The window shutters shattered into splinters, stunning the masked assailant.

Vivace took his opportunity. He breathed as deep as he could, letting out a hot jet of flame. It scorched the IceWings' wings, making him stagger in pain.

A Sandwing was at the window, dawned in a full suit of armor.

"Stop in the name of the Enclave!" He cried, wrapping his talons around the IceWing, stopping him from moving. The IceWing tried to struggle, but couldn't move. He stabbed his restraint in the leg, pushing him away. The knife stayed in the Sandwing's leg.

Wingbeats thundered outside, crescendoing into what sounded like a storm. _Reinforcements,_ Vivace thought, weakly.

The masked Dragon glared at Vivace toxically, standing by the window. He seemed to understand his situation.

"You idiot. You cannot fathom what has happened. You are lost,broken; I can see it in your eyes. Soon, you shall not worry, as it will not be long before you see your mother again." He jumped out of the window, and quickly took flight, fleeing quickly.

Vivace ran (as much as he could in his current condition) to the window, peeking out. He was blinded by a flash of white from the IceWing. Recovering, he saw what had caused it.

A golden tattoo was stitched on the IceWing's back. It was clearly a angry, ravenous IceWing, roaring defiantly upwards. The tattoo ran down his spine.

Vivace tore himself from the window and rushed to the door, past the soldier, who was still writhing trying to pull the knife out of his leg. Throwing it open, He hoped this was all a ruse, a dream, just a nightmare. Just a mirage in the desert sands.

But what he saw shattered any chance of it being an illusion.

Her body, crumpled and battered, lifeless. It was odd to Vivace, seeing her so still. Such a contrast to the liveliness he'd known. She was laying on the floor, her work in her hands, rouge stains on her sides.

Vivace shambled over to her side, unable to think properly.

 _It can't...no...no No NO!_

Vivace couldn't stand any longer. He felt hopelessness wash into his spirit. Confusion and brokenness only exacerbated the pain in his body.

He crawled beside his mother, pulling himself into her wings, finally releasing the sorrow in his heart. He cried, wailed like a sirens song for his mother, his warmth,his protection to come back. To hear her sing, speak, any motion to show him She was alive.

But it never came.

The wounds on Vivace were getting to him.

 _Blood…..so much blood…._

The soldier looked over him, speaking to him, but the words were lost to Vivace. All he heard in his mind was a soft, soothing song his mother had hummed to him before, bittersweet now, in his situation.

He vision tunneled, fading like his old life. The last thing he saw was his blood,creeping into a pool of his mother's.

And then there was silence, and sudden,heavy darkness.

Pain. That was all he felt. His vision was a blur, but he was conscious.

 _Where...Where am I?_

He tried to look around, fighting the soreness in his body. He could tell he was on a medical cot, in a sandstone room. He recognized it. He'd passed it on the way to the audition. It was a medical ward. There were other cots, but there were no other patients.

He looked down at his talons, and saw faded, hardened blood stains in his claws. His chest was covered in bloodied bandages. A flurry of memories came to him, everything that had happened, smashed him. The cold, hard reality of his situation.

 _It wasn't a dream or nightmare…she's gone._

A voice interrupted his thinking.

"How is he?" One of them said. He guessed it was a female. He could see her unclear figure leaning over him.

Another Dragon came into his vision. He guessed he was a male. He was much smaller than the other Dragon. "He's livin', but he's hurtin'. He lost a lot of blood from the wounds, but we managed to save 'em" Vivace felt a talon touch his. Warmth flowed through him."Now it's up to his body to keep him alive."

"He's surprisingly resilient," The female said. She looked back over at the other Dragon. "And how's your wounds Oryx?"

He sighed. "I'll be fine Thorn. Not the first combat wound I've gotten."

 _Thorn? The Queen is here?_

"I just don't want to lose an asset such as you," Thorn said. "You know how hard it is to teach a combat medic?"

"'Longer than a war'", Oryx joked, imitating her Voice. They'd clearly had this talk before. She chuckled a little. Oryx walked over to the bed, checking Vivace's vital signs.

Vivace tried sit up, but a sudden pang made him moan in pain. Oryx looked up at him.

"Someone's back from the brink," he said. "And before you ask, you've been hurt for a day."

Vivace's voice was hoarse from not speaking in days. "Thanks for saving me. I was losing hope." He smiled just a little.

Oryx patted his talon. "No worries cuz. Just doin' my duty." He took off Vivace bandages, revealing a line of white scales that spanned from his neck to his lower stomach. It resembled a crescent moon suspended between the day and night. Oryx quickly replaced the bandages with a new one.

"Why are the scales white?" Vivace asked him.

"Well," Oryx began, "usually, when dragons scales heal, they scar in a dark color, then lighten up." Oryx chuckled. "Ain't nothing's darker than black. NightWing scales heal white, then darken up."

 _Odd,_ Vivace thought.

Thorn spun around, hearing them conversing. "You'll be fine Vivace. It's just because of your...uncommon tribal combination." She walked beside the bed, opposite of Oryx. "Can you walk?"

Vivace began to stretch and move his body. Oryx helped him out of the bed. Vivace talons touched the floor, and he nearly fell. Oryx reached for him but Vivace pushed him away.

"I'm...I'm fine," Vivace said, "I just need to get some feeling in them." He began to walk slowly.

While it was true that Vivace was gaining the sensation in talons with every step, the ache in his body was horrible. Each step caused a sudden pulse in his temple. It was straining his body, but he pushed through it.

Thorn suddenly jumped. "I have to prepare for my...event. Make sure Vivace doesn't hurt himself Oryx!" She called, heading out the door.

Vivace looked at her. "Wait! What about the auditions?"

"Ah yes!" She headed over to a table, digging a letter out of a pile.

She passed it to him. On its face were the words _'Letter of Acceptance.'_ "Congratulations. If you are in shape to be there, you can still perform, but you can opt out."

Vivace smiled a little, genuinely happy, but bittersweetness grabbed him once again, like a sweet to sour candy.

 _Bravura won't be there, she won't see me…_

He clenched his talon, filled with a new passion.

 _Then I will honor her. I will make her proud, even in passing. I will give them a show, as she would._

Thorn looked at him. "From how you look, I'm guessing that's a yes."

Vivace nodded. "I'll perform better than I ever have."

 _At least I hope so._


	4. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3: Someone New**_

Orokin couldn't be more content. Dare he say...happy? That emotion was odd for him. It was a rarity in the ice encrusted kingdom. The royalty he had grown accustomed to was almost like the wind he felt now, standing on the Ice Cliff...sharp, stabbing, siphoning of energy and mirth.

And now, as the wind had been, it was in the past. The needles of discord that had panged his heart, the weight of authority and tyranny...all gone, melting like snowflakes in the summer heat.

 _Ahh...Is this how the royals felt? Not a care? Almost haphazard in their actions? I see why they smiled. I understand._

A deeper thought struck him.

 _How many dragons won't feel this in life? A moment of blissful freedom? Without the monotonous routine of life?_

He paced the cliff, he liked this spot; it gave him space to think and contemplate.

He looked to his left, at a small glacial pond. The water was rippling, shaking. Blue and White ice floated in the water. It was where he'd seen their strange visitor those months ago.

§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§

 **It was twilight.** Winter had set in, and the sun would soon disappear from the arctic circle, leaving the palaces lit by only the light of the moon globes. The temperature would fall, and the kingdom would become a wonderland of ice and snow.

He had come out to the cliff, roughly three months ago, to see the sun before it vanished. It was surprisingly tranquil. The palace's enchantment keep it intact, but the smaller igloos and ice huts had been destroyed in the battle against the royals, and now rebuilt, with heavier and stronger blue ice.

Society was different. The dragons still had an authority, (as all tribes must have to prevent anarchy,) but said authority was fair. Power was distributed to trusted officials, voted upon by Orokin and his citizens. They took their Oligarchal vote and their citizens votes into account with decisions.

The citizens were content. Even some of the excommunicated IceWings came back to this new society. Before they were merely shunned again, or kept at a ten-foot-pole's length front the rest of the dragons. After Prince Winter returned, Orokin personally saw countless outcasts come to the outposts, and heartbreak of having to close them out again.

One of the excommunicated was close to him. He knew him better than anyone else. Losing him was exsanguinating to his spirits.

Out of all the shunned he'd seen, this one was the strangest.

Her body was sleek, smooth, velvety in its nature. She was clearly a hybrid of sorts, Ice and Sea. She still had the icicle horn and spines, and she inherited the spikes and strength of her tribes' tails making for a dangerous weapon. A parti-sapphire bracelet was about one of her ankles, combining yellow and blue. She was clearly headed towards the palace.

 _A hybrid this far north? And at this time, with such little light?_

He approached her. She appeared fearful.

"Are you Orokin?" She asked, keeping her wings tight around herself.

"This is he," he replied.

She looked up at him. Being closer to her, He could see how young she was compared to him. If he had to guess, she was a little over ten.

"Why have you come all this way?" Orokin asked. "It's a long way from the Sea Kingdom."

She looked down. "I heard about the rebellion. And about you taking outcasts in."

Orokin became inquisitive. He gestured for her to follow. "How did your parents meet? IceWing hybrids are not very common. The last one I've seen is Typhoon...and you look like him."

She scoffed. _"Everyone always_ says that. I guess it's just a side effect of being a hybrid like him. Anyways, my parents met in Possibility. Hybrids have become way more common now that tribes are intermingling."

He crouched down to her level. "And there's nothing wrong with that. Hybrids should have an equal chance as everyone else. If I could take in other hybrids, I would immediately."

Orokin didn't exactly know why, but there was an air about her. There was something about her toothy grin and the glint in her eyes. It seemed...odd, deceiving even.

 _Stop it,_ his conscience told him. _You're just being presumptuous. She's just...strange, like Typhoon._

"It is paramount we get you an assignment and household before the sun vanishes," Orokin declared. "Come, with expeditiousness."

He led her to the palace. The palace's insides were being renovated; many of the old decorations and Portraits were being taken out and stored in a off site location. The hallways were bustling with movement.

He led her through into what was originally the Queen's bedroom. It was unnecessarily large, so he turned it into an office of sorts, and a place to vote on new issues.

On the outside was a list of all of the positions available. I peeked at it for a moment.

"Hmm...all the current jobs we need are physically active; Landscapers, construction workers, the lot. But, if you have a profession you would like to invest yourself into, I could see if I have the items for it."

The hybrid mused for a moment. "I always wanted to work in a scientific field."

"Perhaps a researcher then?" Orokin offered.

"I prefer more of a technological engineer," she said with a joking smile.

Orokin merely shook his head. "Here's a compromise. You'll be an inventor. Something most tribes don't have."

The hybrid was joyous. "Thank you Orokin!" She said.

"It is nothing. You living space will be inside the palace. Aleutian will show you." As he said that the IceWing rounded the corner.

"It's only a minute's walk from here," he said, and they headed down the hall.

"Oh!" Orokin exclaimed. "My manners, I forgot to ask your name!"

The hybrid looked back at him, a soft leer in her eye. "Tributary. I'm Tributary."

Tributary and Aleutian disappeared around the corner, leaving Orokin alone.

 **§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§**

 _ **That Look.**_ Orokin didn't know what it was about her. Maybe it was all the oddities in her arrival. Maybe it was her tribes. Either way, uneasiness filled him when he saw the hybrid. It was irrational, that he knew. He shouldn't judge her so quickly, nor so harshly.

 _Maybe she's just...different, an individual,_ he thought, snapping back to reality.

But _that look_ she gave him. The evil eye she seemed to have, it haunted him.

He heard a dragon's wingbeats behind him. Pushing down his fears, he turned to face Tributary.

"I reckon you have not come out here gratuitously," Orokin said, trying not to show his discomfort.

"What does that mean?" She said, causing Orokin to shake his head. "Anyways, I innovated the design of your bows in my lab. I have a prototype there."

She took off, Heading towards a large hut outside the kingdom. Orokin put it there just in case an experiment where to backfire, or if an unintended side effect where to occur because of it.

The hut looked like all the others in the outside. Rounded roof, smooth, chiseled, blue ice.

The lab was a oval surrounded by another square. The ovular section was for design. It was filled with blueprints, schematics, and prototypes. The square section was for tests. Effigies of dragons were placed there. Orokin didn't expect her to use that section very much.

Tributary dashed over to a small crossed piece of wood, strung like a bow.

"I call it a crossbow," she said. "An original name right?" She stated, sarcastically. It was the length of her front talon. On the crossbow's underside, a metal container was attached to the lower part of the cross, which was split. A few gears where in the crossbows side, attached to the container and the string.

"What is the purpose of the container?" Orokin asked her.

"That? That's just what stores the arrows. I call it a magazine."

Orokin picked up and held the weapon. "And the gears?"

She took it out of his talons. "You know, is just better if I show you." She opened the door into the firing range, and took aim at a SeaWing effigy. The trigger snapped, sending an arrow into the shoulder of the decoy. She tugged on the string, drawing it back into place. As she pulled, the gears on the side turned, bringing a new arrow unto the string from the magazine. "Pretty nice huh?" Tributary said.

Orokin was a little dumbfounded. The mechanism didn't make sense. Tributary took off the magazine and placed it on the table. There didn't seem to be any moving parts inside the magazine.

 _Then how was the next arrow loaded? It couldn't have been from the mechanism._

"Well…" he said, "It's very...innovative," He said, a little half-heartedly. He had _not_ expected her to create military weaponry in her "innovations". Especially so soon. He expected something more general. A better, safer construction strategy perhaps?

"The crossbows aren't hard to make," she continued. "Wood, a little metal...plentiful things in Pyrrhia."

Orokin nodded. "To be honest, I still don't understand or comprehend how this thing operates."

She grinned. "Don't worry your blue icy head. That's for me to worry about."

That was unsettling. In truth, he felt he should be _more_ worried, _more_ unnerved.

 _This is unlike me. Why am I being so lenient? So...accepting of this Dragon? So incurious?_

Orokin headed towards the door to the lab.

"Continue your work, I'll check on you in time."

Tributary took aim fiercely with the Crossbow, launching two quick arrows downrange. "Attend to your your work and I'll attend to mine," she said, with a soft hint of possessiveness in her tone. He peeked over his shoulder at her. Her face was steel, a Rampart, blocking any other emotion except focus.

Orokin left then. He didn't want to see her shoot the new bow any longer, nor be in her presence. His mind felt blurry, like a fog. But in said fog, one thought was blazing like a burning star, tearing through the mist:

 _Something has changed in me...but how? And why?_

 _ **((And Done. That took awhile. Anyways, I'm going to try to post a chapter every Sunday or Monday. Unless something comes up that interrupts what I can do.))**_

 _ **((See y'all next week with Chapter Four:Grow!))**_


	5. Chapter 4: Grow

_**Chapter Four: Grow**_

 _ **Vivace was drained.**_ Physically, mentally, and spiritually. He tried to reignite that passionate regal fire that he'd had just a day before. His heart has other ideas.

He'd dreamed lucidly the night before. He saw her flesh. Her body was scarred in his mind. The cuts her body had had were transferred on her now, still fresh and bleeding, as if her soul was dying too. She was off in the distance, kneeling down.

"Bravura!" He cried.

"M-my son…" she said, with a soft, forced smile.

"I wish I could've saved you," he whispered, tears staining his eyes.

She kneeled to his level, just like she had before his audition.

"You can't sway everything. You couldn't have saved me. No matter what you did."

He hugged her tightly. "I'm adrift...pathless, like a leaf of a tree."

"You must learn to not fret in things that are outside of your control. Don't worry, my son. Your wings will ride the wind, as that leaf would, and the wind will take you where you must go."

Vivace pulled away, but still held her talon. "But I can't go without-"

"Yes you can Vivace," She interrupted him. "You can't stay under my wing forever. In my shadow. You must eclipse me, and do things grander, extravagant,and more awesome than I ever have in my life."

He was silent, contemplating her words.

"I wish I could turn back time. Remove my afflictions and stress. Go back to my old life. My old self."

Bravura just shrugged. "Sometimes the only way forward in through hardship. Maybe you'll grow now, without me as a crutch."

"Crutch?" He repeated.

"It seems I was one for you. And now you've fallen, without the cane to keep you up."

"So what can I do?" He asked.

She turned and began to walk away. "Fix your broken bones and learn to walk Vivace."

He chased after her, but she always seemed ten steps ahead. His wings faltered. She faded into dust in the distance.

Darkness circled him quickly. It was suffocating. It pressed down on him, squeezing his spine and wings. He tried to fight, but eventually, submits to the presence.

Vivace awoke, drenched in sweat, and feverishly hot.

The dream made him torn. He wanted to take her words as inspiration, but the more logical side of him said otherwise.

 _It was a dream, a figment of my mind. I created her, so what she said was what I wanted to hear. At least I hope so._

A sullen ambivalence was about him. He felt in a sense that those words were true, yet false all at once.

He sat up with a sigh. He had slept in one of Thorn's guest bedrooms. This one happened to be designed with an IceWing In mind. The room was painted in soft whites and blues, with a single, Ice white dresser in the corner. The roof was a mural of Dragonets of all tribes in unity, at round table, seemingly discussing their problems with words, not steel.

 _That's a large hope. But the chance of that is minimal._

He got up, slowly. He knew he wasn't going to sleep for any longer tonight. He opened the window to the room, and perched himself on the precipice of its drop. He leapt out with a small dive before spreading his wings. He flew out, past the square and past Sanctuary's outskirts.

He saw a duo of Oases. Reflected in their surfaces was the cloudless purple sky, still stylized and dotted in faraway stars. Beside one of the pools, a dragon sat. His face was freckled and a nasty scar ran over his snout. He recognized him as Qibli.

Vivace flew over to the pond, and sat beside the dragon. Vivace put his talons in the water.

Qibli looked up cautiously, still flicking the water with his talons "Aren't you supposed to be at the wedding? Vivace, right?" He asked, blinking as he studied the hybrid.

Vivace kept his head down, solemn. "It's not time yet," he said. "We still have two hours before it starts."

"I'm sorry for your loss. You're Bravura's son. Everyone in the kingdom heard what happened to her. But while I can't fully know how you feel, know that I'm grieving for her, too," Qibli said, turning to meet his eyes.

"I know everyone knows," Vivace said, with a little edge. "I never liked the spotlight. Sometimes I wish She wasn't so famous." He pulled his talons out of the water, pulling them to his chest.

"I feared losing her. I realize that now. I feared that someone would get jealous or envious of her. Or hate her just to hate."

"And then she left you, she was stripped away from your life without a chance for you to ever tell her goodbye, or anything for that matter," Qibli said. "Three moons, I might have lost my mother too, but this must feel a thousand times worse," he added, his eyes meeting his as his look changed from empathy to sadness.

Vivace nodded. "I can't escape her. She's like a wraith, looking for revenge before she finally passes on."

"She's your mother. She loved you. And I'm sure she looking over you right now" Qibli said, smiling at him sympathetically.

"If so, that's loads of pressure," Vivace said. "Imagine someone you honor or look up to watching everything you do and judging you for it." He looked at him. "Wouldn't that stress you out? Psyche you out?"

"I didn't mean it that way. But you have music, right? That helps with did for me anyways."

"It does, but only do much." Vivace became s little more curious. "Since when were you a musician?"

"When I was smaller, and lived with my mother, I used to go to this 'Play Center', if you could call it that. I played percussion instruments for the most part. And when I went to Jade Mountain, it sparked back my love for music. It helped me..." Qibli explained

"That's nice," Vivace said. "It just feels...sad without her there to hear it. Especially today. She was supposed to be here to support me. Now I feel like a building with no support. Collapsing under myself."

"Vivace, she might be gone physically, but she's still in you. Don't think she's gone. Think she's there, listening. Perform to honor her, Perform to _surpass_ her. And do it with your heart, like you have always done," Qibli said, unconsciously tapping his talon on the ground to an inaudible beat.

Vivace knew he was right, but he couldn't admit that. He tapped along with him instinctively.

"Just focus on your performance. You'll do great," Qibli said, punching his shoulder friendlily.

Vivace felt a connection to Qibli. Deeper than just their tribes. Qibli felt almost brotherly to him. Especially in how similar they were. Vivace could tell he wasn't a solivagant anymore when it came to his emotions. He could turn to Qibli, and he would be there.

Vivace smiled, Just a bit, but it was a start. He looked at the sun. "We should head back and get dressed," Vivace suggested. He spread his wings and took off, Qibli following not far behind him.

 _··························_

 _ **Vivace landed beside Qibli,**_ and they both rushed to their rooms to get dressed. Vivace opened the dresser, revealing the two things he asked to Oryx to keep for him, taken from his home, as they carried sentimental value.

One was a piece of music, with a bit of dried blood on its corner. The title was unrecognizable. He could see that only half of it was done however. Oryx guessed that she was killed while finishing the piece.

The other was Bravura's Treble Clef earring. He took it out and put in on.

Vivace shoved the drawer closed. He headed toward Qibli's room, as he realized He didn't have any clothes.

Qibli gave him one of his duplicate earrings, a suit with a gradient (they matched him quite nicely,) and a small bracelet, decorated with a small percussion clef.

Vivace got dressed, as Qibli did. Qibli was wearing a duo of contrasting colors. His Amber earring in his left and a Labradorite crystal in his left. Vivace noticed he didn't wear a vest, and inquired why.

"SandWing weddings are a little strange," Qibli admitted. "Usually, the wedding pair decides how the family and visitors should dress. With Thorn being a minimalist, they want us to dress light."

Smolder stopped at the doorway. Not much later. "Are you two ready?" Dissimilar to Qibli, Smolder had a pure royal purple vest, but with only one earring: A single Pyrope gemstone. Red like spilt blood.

"I could ask the same of you," He said, greeting him with a hug for a moment.

Smolder broke away, and peered at Vivace. He glanced at Qibli who nodded solemnly.

"It's sad to see a life wasted," he said. "I've lost a majority of my family. As destabilizing as that is, and with how much venom I have have for what they've done to those I've loved, they were still...caring while they lived."

Before Vivace could respond, a loud bell sounded from the hall.

"That's a warning," Smolder, said. "We need to go."

Vivace filed down the halls of the Palace, towards the main Plaza. He knew the songs they were playing eight times over. He was ready, inspired, reinvigorated. Ready to honor his kin.

He stepped out into the plaza. It was humongously high, with a round roof, decorated with stained glass. The walls were spotted with wreaths, tassels, and garlands. The stained glass let in lights of all colors, focusing on the stage set on the far side of the room. The room was full of dragons, ones Vivace had never seen. To the side was where the band was. Vivace rushed there.

The NightWing Conductor turned to him. "The blacksmiths in town wanted you to have this."

She handed him a instrument case.

He opened it to reveal a shiny and new silver Trumpet. Then he realized the embroidery on the metal. It was phrases from various smiths across the kingdom. One stood out to him. It said: _We will remember the music._

The other said had his mother's name, written in beautiful calligraphy.

Vivace was speechless. "How'd you all make this so fast?"

The NightWing smiled. "The tribes can do wonderful things when they come together."

Vivace smiled, a true one this time. He was holding the caring work of his whole kingdom. It was almost surreal.

Vivace sat down and waited for the procession to start. Not much later, The conductor, who Vivace learned was called Songmaker, made a small announcement, with a piece of paper in her talons.

"As most of you know," she began, "We lost a great composer roughly two days ago. In honor of her, we are playing her music today. Furthermore, her son is here." She gestured for him to come forward. He did so, a little hesitantly. She passed him the paper she was holding. It was a new piece.

"He will be playing his own special part, just for her, before we begin our precession."

Vivace stepped out, back into a spotlight. He wanted to hide. To disappear.

 _But this is for her. To show what she has done for me, and everyone in the kingdom._

The band put there instruments up, as did Vivace. The song began warm, but quickly became conflicted. The chords were balanced yet lamented in their style. Vivace cut through the colors with his own, standalone line. It was flowing, smooth, but still fit with the rest of the sounds.

/PKyBFCip-H4 This is the url to the songs being played here.))

The band quickly transitioned into the processional song. It was similar to the first, but much more happy and cheerful. Thorn walked down the aisle, through the purple light that poured in from the glass overhead. She was a classical white gown, shaded by the lights to look much more regal. The Eye of Onyx was around her neck as well. Her Bridesmaids contrasted her with stark black gowns, and much more pompous dresses.

Smolder wasn't very far behind. The color of the light changed to Orange in the aisle, the color of his namesake. It wasn't long before they both were in the stage, beside the priest. The band was put on standby Songmaker. The priest was exchanging vows with both of them. Afterwards, he said those five words.

"You may kiss the bride."

The band quickly played the played three chords, ending as the two lovers connected, with a cataclysmic amount of applause from the citizens.

Vivace could see the love and care in their embrace. It was calming almost, the two of them. They soon parted with a mirthful smile.

The procession departed into celebration. Dances between the celebrated, music, food, and gifts. Vivace saw a few dragons he could recognise. He saw Blaze talking to Thorn and decided to talk to her. She was dressed in a dress so thick, Vivace couldn't see her back talons. She was wearing type of jewellery possible: Necklaces, bracelets, earrings, et cetera.

"Oh yeah, I lost my two sisters. One tried to kill me. Probably jealous of my looks. Or my leadership skills."

Thorn spoke. "Hey Blaze, that Dragon has a diamond ring," she said, pointing off into the crowd.

"Really?! Where?" She rushed off into the crowd.

Vivace was stupefied. "What's up with her?"

Thorn sighed. "She's ditzy and probably insane. Ignore her. I don't see how an apple can fall so far _far_ away from its tree."

"Oasis wasn't like that was she?"

"No. She was an acceptable Queen, who produced three despicable daughters. But this is beside the point." She ran a talonover his ruff playfully, making him laugh.

"Thanks for the musical backdrop," she said. "You changed a lot in so little time. You're a little Bravura in the making." He nodded to her.

The celebration lasted quite a while. When it ended, the sun was nearly down. He looked at the setting sun, and at the glitter and shine of the dragons flying back towards Sanctuary.

 _You made this possible...no._ We _made this possible. How you nurtured of me. Your cheerful nature._

 _We brought happiness to many. You and I._


	6. Chapter 5

_**Chapter Five: Come Hither**_

 **There were many things Orokin hated**. He could list a few, but the first one on that list would be rumors. He knew the destructive powers of hearsay. As much as it hurts others, dragons cannot withstand the temptation to talk about others, even when the speaker themselves has their own rumors circulating.

He'd heard about sporadic attacks across the kingdoms, a majority of which were perpetrated by IceWings. Furthermore, they had golden tattoos, as he had.

While Orokin had little care for relations to the public (most saw him as violent already,) reinforcing their thoughts frightened him. Someone was trying to frame him.

 _Think, don't be a fool. It has to be someone who has seen me up close, enough to see my tattoo._

Immediately, two suspects emerged in his mind: Tributary and Snowfall.

Snowfall was questionable. She had motive; in her defense, he _had_ taken all of her land by force, and he _did_ threaten her. However, if IceWings were attacking others of their own tribe, it must be an extremist or an insurgent.

Or a rebel on the inside.

Tributary…she had to be the one. She'd already acted rather suspiciously around him. All of this started when she arrived. First the crossbow, now the attacks.

 _She must go. I was a fool blinded by selflessness._

He stood up from his office, and stalked towards her lab, a bit angry. He couldn't believe his own ignorance.

But as he walked he caught a bad mojo. The vibe of having to tell her to leave have him chills. He stopped for a second, dragons bustling around him.

 _I won't hesitate this time. I won't overthink. My mind is set. I will stay true to my word._

With every step the creeping, scratching trepidation in his stomach gnawed at him. It felt like something was eating him from the inside. He stopped at the door to the outside kingdom. The cold stones underfoot and the absolute zero temperature outside, mixed with the lack of light, gave forbiddingand foreboding new meaning.

Orokin did something rare then. He shivered. He wasn't cold. _He was afraid._

Defiantly, as his fears chained him down, he trudged on, wrapped in a Polar bear-skin blanket. Natural resistance was nothing to this level of exposure. His eyes were merely for decoration now as he left the castle, As darkness held dominion over him.

Sounds were sharp in his ear: the frantic calls of animals who dared be out at this time, the distinct _crack_ of ice in the distance, his own slow, shaky breaths.

Finally, he reached her lab, covered in snow and ice. Using his wings, he dusted himself off, and headed towards her. He could hear her humming in the distance. It was a soft, free forming song. It filed his ears. The song seemed almost like one of mourning. It reverberated down the icy passageway. She'd clearly had some training in musical arts.

 _I didn't think SeaWings could sing very well with them being submerged half the time._

It seemed a new era had began by the time Orokin finally reached the doorway. Hesitation struck again again, looking at the doors' handle. Why this was happening he couldn't pinpoint. However, he'd already dragged himself through treacherous conditions to get here. He couldn't retreat. He _wouldn't._

Mustering up some courage, (what little of it he had at this point,) he strutted into the lab.

 _100 steps forward… Zero steps back._

 _ **Authors Note: I know I've been gone for a while. Mainly because of Hurricane Florence. Also, this chapter was a pain to write. I had to make it long enough to make it a satisfying chapter, while keeping this story's pacing. Although it was fun writing in a more creepy style.**_

 _ **Read, Review, and Follow! Fret out.**_


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